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Fingers flex with mine. I pause. I don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Killian. His thumb presses against the palm of my hand before he’s tugging me into his chest.
His hard chest that smells of every bad thing that we were told to stay away from. He’s potent, a delicacy that you can’t afford to indulge in. He’s top shelf alcohol that if taken in large doses, you could die from.
Neither of us say a word, and I know what this is. I know the rules. Whatever happens in the cage, stays in the cage. It’s like Fight Club. Even when you’re coupled with someone, you still have to partake in the cage. King and Dove tried to get out of it, but it didn’t work. Now they stick to each other and have mastered how to conceal as much as possible.
He drops down onto a chair, bringing me with him.
Can I swallow everything just for this? Can I offer myself the forgiveness that I will need to have after tonight?
I’m Kiznitch. I have to. We’re bred stronger, raised smarter, and groomed to sharp precision. With that thought hyping me, I swing my legs over his waist until I’m straddling him.
He looks up at me from his position, his head tilting back and his hands on my ass. I can do this. Only he would be the first Brother or Kiznitch to sleep with me. I’ve kept my seals pretty tight.
Hooking my arm around the back of his neck, I grind against his crotch to the beat before leaning down to his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into mine and tugging it between my teeth.
He groans, and I shit you not, that sound alone was enough to rouse every single sensation the human body has and have it roaring to life. He wraps his arm around my back, pulling me in closer, as if I wasn’t close enough.
Sucking in a deep breath, I bring my lips to his and kiss him. He opens, allowing me access and my tongue dives inside, licking every curve that I can. His tongue is soft, his lips weak. He raises his hips to meet mine, his swollen cock pressing exactly where I need it to be.
Holy shit. Sweat and heat surges from me, and I no longer care. No longer care that he and I are beefing right now. No longer care that I’m probably going to be mad at myself when all is done. I. No. Longer. Care. Willing to throw everything out the window, I need to fuck this man and I need to fuck him now. Maybe Perse was right, or maybe I’ll just use that as an excuse to get me through the guilt. The chorus to the song couldn’t be more appropriate, as his thumbs hook around the band of my shorts. Goosebumps swell over my flesh as he slowly slides his fingers against my hips, then to my back. The gesture is simple, but with the music, the lighting, the tension between Killian and I, and the inflamed sexual tension that seems to persistently masticate between us, it’s enough to have me wet and ready.
I reach down, unbuttoning his jeans with one hand. I know the final show isn’t for us, it’s for the audience. If you have sex, it has to be in a ma
No missionary.
No—whatever this is. It has to be out and open for people to see. He knows this, I know this, and yet, neither of us are willing to change position. My movements become a little frantic as sweat drips down my temple, desperate for a release. His hips tilt up, allowing my hand to slip beneath his jeans.
I moan at the co
“Take these off. Now,” he growls into my ear, the warmth of his demand ingraining into my skin.
I obey, sliding off his lap.
He looks up at me, reaching for the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear, and brings it to his mouth. He flicks his Zippo—my damn Zippo—open and lights the end. Blowing out a cloud of smoke, he spreads his knees wide. “And make it sexy.”
“Dark Times” by The Weeknd starts playing, and I slide off his lap, ignoring everyone else around me.
Unzipping my shorts, I shuffle out of them, making sure to bend right over for the crowd as they slide down my slender legs and fishnet tights. I look over my shoulder just as Maya catches my eye. She looks a little traumatized in the corner, sitting in the dark alone. I block her out before I overthink something, kicking the shorts to the side before dropping to the ground, spreading my legs wide. A spotlight comes onto Killian, and I start crawling across the ground, unbuttoning my crop top and tearing it off, leaving me in nothing but my bra, panties, and fishnet tights with thigh-high boots. I grip onto his knees, ignoring the smirk on his mouth and the way his jeans are unbuttoned. He looks unreal from here. My mouth waters. When the chorus plays, I stand, stealing the smoke from his fingers and placing it in my mouth. I inhale, exhale, before flicking it away and rolling my body over him, his cock rubbing my slit perfectly. Leaning forward, I drag my tongue along his jawline, the makeup sticking to my taste buds. Untying his bandana from the back, I slowly hook it around my neck, and knot it.
Killian leans forward, gripping me from my waist and spi
Killian’s hand slides beneath my panties. He flicks his finger over my clit, leaning closer to my ear. “Do you fuck like you dance, Little Hellhound?”
His finger teasingly dives into my pussy and my walls clench around his invasion, unwilling to let him go. My eyes roll to the back of my head.
“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Watch Kenan try to fuck Kyrin as I fuck you.”
My eyes open. He bends me over once I’m standing, tearing my tights down from my i
His fingers come to my hip and he flexes, just as I swallow him inside of me. He fills me to the brim. I have to pause, because I don’t think I could take him all at once. He’s big. Too big. I feel as though I’m suffocating around his size.
Tugging on my hair, he further pulls me against him while slowly continuing to drive inside of me. I can’t hear anything unless he yells or he’s right near my ear, but he’s not talking right now. He draws out, taking part of my soul with him, before pushing back in. Just when I think he’s going to go slow, he picks up force, slamming into me harder. Not faster, just harder. He fucks with a brutality that makes me want to whimper, pray, and plead to the gods to give me more. I need more. I need to feel his skin against mine and his lips all over my body.
His hand comes to the front of my throat and he clenches, leaning up to run his lips over my ear. “Let go.”
I do, releasing myself all over him. He spins me back around roughly until I’m straddling his waist. He pushes me back down over his dick and I’m seeing stars all over again. If you’re in Mayhem, you’re on the pill, so when he leans forward and sucks my lace covered nipple between his teeth, groaning while emptying himself inside of me, I don’t think twice. Our bodies descend, my heart rate pounding as we play out the remaining minutes before the curtains draw closed.
The lights cut out when the curtains have dropped. I brush my hair into a high pony, the slick sweat clinging to my skin. Spi
Bring on the guilt.